“A journey is like a marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.” -John Steinbeck
I fly through the night to Santiago, clear customs and climb on a bus to Pajarito station in the center of the city, then transfer to a bus to Valparaiso, two hours away. There is no English spoken at the airport or bus station and by some miracle I’m in Valparaiso by 1 pm. It is a city of 300,000 that slopes from the mountains to the Pacific Ocean, very old and colorful, with narrow cobblestone streets. I sit downtown in the afternoon sun for an hour and people watch, then take a taxi to my hostel. It is in a house on one of the cobblestone streets about halfway up the hill towards the mountains. I haven’t really slept for 24 hours but the pull to walk the streets is irresistible so I head out and explore as much as I can before returning to a comfy bed and fall into a 12 hour dream filled sleep.